


Just a Spark

by patdkitten



Category: One Direction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Busking, M/M, Pining, Travel, Unrequited Crush, backpacking AU, couch surfing au, early life crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:23:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1910799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patdkitten/pseuds/patdkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles has an early life crisis, realizing that he doesn't know who he is in life or what he wants. So he quits school and goes backpacking and couch surfing through Europe. First stop: London. There, he crashes on the couch of one Louis Tomlinson and falls a bit in love along the way.</p><p>He also makes friends with Zayn, Liam's a barman, and Niall loves busking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Spark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bohnferris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bohnferris/gifts).



> Title from "Last Hope" by Paramore

Harry loves London. Although it's a dreary rainy afternoon when he gets off the train and he feels stiff from the ride down from Cheshire, London still feels like a bright, shiny jewel. He's been a few times, enough that London should feel like a second home, but this time it's different.

A few weeks ago, Harry had been on his way from class to his mum's house when he had a sudden vision of his life: he was going to be spending his whole life going from school or work to his mum's or to his sister's or his own flat, rinse and repeat. He'd gotten home, walked into the kitchen and told his mum and stepdad that he wanted to take some time off from school and backpack through Europe while he was still young.

To be fair, even a few weeks later and on the first serious leg of his journey, Harry's still not exactly sure _why_ he wants to backpack through Europe, but he _is_ sure he doesn't want to get stuck in a rut. He wants to live a little while he's young enough to enjoy it, and he can use the life experience. He might even get to find out things about himself he hasn't figured out yet. He's actually really excited about that last part, if he's honest.

He digs out his London guidebook, flipping through to one of the myriad of Post-it notes that populate the poor book. There's an address scribbled on it, along with a number and a name: 'Louis'.

The thing is, it's not cheap to backpack through England, much less Europe, and Harry really just wants to keep it as inexpensive as he can. In keeping with that, he's limited his stays to local hostels and, despite some teasing from his sister, he's signed up for a couch surfing website that caters to the gay and lesbian community. The latter part isn't something he's told his parents; he's not entirely sure about himself yet, if he fancies lads or birds, and he's rather hoping that this soul-searching journey he's on will lead him to answers. Or, at least, some rather good times.

He hopes.

It's through the website that he found Louis in London: no last name given on the website or in any of the communication Harry's exchanged with the man. Harry remembers the worried look that had crossed Gemma's face when Harry was in the process of setting up that first rest stop, as it was, of his journey.

“What if this Louis lures in unsuspecting gay men and murders them?” Gemma had hissed breathlessly in Harry's ear as Harry had tried to concentrate on the details over the phone. “And _eats_ them? What if you're eaten, Haz?”

Louis hadn't sounded like a serial killer of gay men, and definitely didn't sound like a cannibal. In fact, he actually sounded pretty laid back, with a slightly higher than normal voice with an accent that Harry couldn't quite place. He hadn't sent a picture, saying in a laughing voice that Harry would just assume that Louis'd got it off an online image search.

Louis had also suggested that Harry text him as soon as he was in London, and to ring him in case Harry needed directions to the flat. Harry'd done the former just before the train had stopped at the station, and but he'll be damned if he does the latter before he has a chance to figure his way around.

Harry finds a bookstore in short order, buying a map and heading outside to figure out where he is and where he needs to go. He finds a bench outside to sit as he unfolds the map with a frustrated sound.

As he turns his map this way and that, glancing up every so often to double check the road he's on and nearby side streets, he's vaguely aware that there's someone singing and playing a guitar nearby. They're actually pretty good, he thinks before he busies himself with aligning himself with the universe better known as London.

Suddenly, a shadow falls across the map. The singing has stopped. Harry blinks up with a start, finding himself looking up at David Beckham. At least, he _thinks_ it's David Beckham as he tries to scramble all of his things together in an attempt to not look like a messy person. He's not actually sure David Beckham would be wandering about London in tattered jeans, a white t-shirt and tan boots, but what does Harry know about celebrities in their downtime?

“Don't you have footie to go play?” Harry asks vaguely, feeling incredibly stupid as soon as the words are out of his mouth and even more so because the map still isn't cooperating with him.

David Beckham laughs, holding his hand out for the map and carefully folding it back until it's good as new. “I'm not David Beckham, if that's who you thought I was. I don't see it, but my roommate thinks I should get a career impersonating the man.”

“Your roommate thinks many things. Doesn't make any of 'em great ideas.” A shorter man seems to appear out of nowhere next to Not David Beckham, and his blue eyes and easy going smile are rather welcoming even shaded by the ridiculous snapback he's wearing. There's a guitar case strap slung over the man's loose hanging tank top, and the overall look kind of reminds Harry of a kid trying to play the part of a young punk. The guitar strap makes Harry wonder if this was the man who was just playing, because he doesn't hear the music anymore.

“Be nice.” Not David Beckham grins, knocking his shoulder into the smaller man. Harry thinks briefly that Not David Beckham is real fit and part of him wouldn't mind sinking his teeth in the man's biceps, and. What in the world are these thoughts? Who is Harry becoming already, when his journey's just started?

Blithely unaware of Harry's inner thoughts, Not David Beckham holds up the map. “Where were you headed? Maybe Nialler and I can help point you in the right direction.”

The shorter man, apparently Nialler, cranes his head up to look at Not David Beckham like he's sizing him up before looking back at Harry and shoving his hands in his front pockets. “It'll cost you lunch, though.”

Not David Beckham rolls his eyes, nudging his companion again. “It will not. I'll feed you at my place, Niall. Anyway.” He turns his attention to Harry. His entire face is smiling and warm, and Harry's reminded of a puppy eager for a stick to be thrown.

Harry's not entirely sure that Louis would want the extra people showing up on his doorstep, but it does beat texting him to say he's lost, and Harry sighs inwardly before giving the address. He doesn't sound entirely sure of himself as he says it, and he hopes that it's not obvious to these strangers that he's crashing at another stranger's place.

The address looks to be a familiar one to them, judging by the fact Niall snickers and Not David Beckham just barely manages to hide a smile that's just this side of surprised. Harry wonders just what sort of person this Louis is that he would inspire this sort of reaction, but this is supposed to be a soul-searching journey and how can he properly have one if he doesn't throw himself in wholeheartedly, right?

“You Harry then?” Niall's voice is still heavily laced with amusement. “Tommo mentioned something about some bloke coming in and crashing on his couch for a bit.”

“Tommo?” Harry repeats dumbly, knowing he looks confused, but Not David Beckham is apparently a more forgiving sort because he helps Harry up with a comforting smile.

“Ignore Niall. He thinks anything to do with Louis is hilarious. I'm Liam, by the way.” Not David Beckham – Liam – waves at himself. “And the address is actually where we're headed too, so we'll be your guides, yeah?”

 

 

The address Louis had given Harry turns out to belong to a terraced house sandwiched in between other houses that look exactly like it.

“Home sweet home,” Liam announces brightly as he unlocks the front door. In the short hop on the Tube they've taken, Harry's only really learned that Liam is roommates with the elusive Louis and that Louis isn't, as far as Liam knows, a serial killer. Harry still doesn't know why he'd mentioned that fear, but it had made Niall burst out laughing and Liam smile quietly.

The front door opens onto a tiny hallway, with a few open doorways off it and stairs at the far end, leading up into the house. Harry knows that, although he's got permission to be in the place, he probably shouldn't snoop, but he can't help himself from peeking into one of the doorways.

It opens onto a rather cosy living room that's home to an extensive home system, a coffee table half hidden beneath magazines and paperwork, a couple of chairs, and an overstuffed couch. The latter is occupied by what mostly looks like a pile of blankets and pillows, but there seems to be a person underneath because Harry can see an arm so covered in artwork that he's not actually sure if it's black marker or tattoos.

As he's looking curiously into the living room, Niall makes a beeline toward the back of the house, presumably the kitchen. Liam gives Harry a sympathetic look before he follows with an urgency that Harry has only seen in his mother.

Not exactly sure what to do with himself now that he's actually here, Harry slides off his backpack. Before he can catch it from falling, though, it thuds on the ground louder than he'd intended. The mound of blankets stirs, the arm disappearing into it before the mound shifts and rises.

Underneath is what's simultaneously the sexiest and most adorable man Harry's ever laid eyes on. He's got shaggy brown hair, a bit of scruff dusting along the sharpest jawline Harry's ever seen and cheekbones that Harry's pretty sure could cut someone. He's also rubbing his eyes in what is most definitely a kittenish manner, clearly just woken up.

“Um, sorry,” Harry stammers as the man levels dark blue eyes in his direction. He's not really sure why he's stammering, why he's even embarrassed, although he thinks it's got something to do with the fact that there's a rather sexy man sleepily staring at him when he isn't quite sure what to do with himself right now. “I don't. Liam let me in? I'm Harry.”

The man sleepily stares at him a moment longer before he stumbles to his feet and heads in the direction that Niall and Liam had gone in. Harry hesitates before following.

The kitchen is pretty well stocked and makes Harry feel a bit homesick. He's not sure he should feel homesick yet; he hasn't even left England, much less Cheshire long enough to feel that way. He hopes his emotions aren't visible on his face because if they are, he's not going to get very far on his soul-searching journey. Hell, he might not even get out of London.

Liam's busy cooking and the man Harry had accidentally woken up is tucked up against Liam's side. Judging from their stances and the way the pair keep glancing in his direction, they're talking about him. He's also pretty sure that this man is Liam's roommate and therefore the mysterious Louis.

“They'll be like that for a while,” Niall tells him, offering him a cheese covered tortilla chip. “You'll get used to it.”

Harry glances at the pair, just in time to see Louis look briefly in his direction, before sitting down and taking the proffered chip. It must make Niall trust him because the other man nudges the plate of tortilla chips between them, and it looks like he's been offered the holy grail.

“Doesn't look like a serial killer, does he?” Niall says after a bit. Harry feels his cheeks burn faintly, but he can see that Niall's trying not to grin. He isn't really succeeding, but what really sets Niall off laughing is the way Louis turns around with an expression that's just shy of shocked and somewhere around vaguely annoyed.

“Serial killer?” Louis' voice rises on the end, making his already pitched voice sound that much higher. He looks like an indignant kitten, and Harry gets now why the thought of Louis killing him had set Niall and Liam off on the Tube. “What. How.”

As Louis sputters into silence, blue eyes wide, Harry's suddenly struck by how endeared he is by this man. He holds his hands up, hoping he sounds calming and properly apologetic. “My sister thought it was a bit off that you didn't give me a last name or a pic before we met. So I had no proof you weren't going to kill and um. Eat me.”

“Excuse me.” Louis still sounds indignant, but he's beginning to look more like a kitten that doesn't know it's being laughed at, especially as he shoots rather offended looks in Liam and Niall's direction. He finally puffs himself up, making himself look bigger than he is. Jesus, but Harry's just so charmed by this relative stranger who's offered up his couch to Harry for the next couple of weeks.

“I don't give out my last name on the internet.” Louis finally says, the picture of perfect poise, much like a queen dignifying her subjects with her presence. “It's not that I don't trust you, because you look a trustworthy sort. I just like separating my online life from my offline life.”

“And yet you offer up our couch online,” Liam intones dryly, making it sound a lot like it's an old argument.

Louis shrugs and Harry finally notices that half of the doodles down one of Louis's arms are actually tattoos while the other half is brightly coloured marker done in childish scrawl. He wonders about that, wonders if it has anything to do with why Louis separates his online and offline lives. Harry doesn't, after all, see any sign of children in the house other than a few crayon drawings on the surprisingly spotless stainless steel fridge.

Caught up in his thoughts, Harry nearly misses that Louis is talking again, clearly reminding Liam of a list of reasons why he offers up their couch, which really ends with, “And most importantly, I like meeting new people, Li, people that have the courage to see more than the place they grew up in. I only had the courage to get to London. Same with you and Nialler.”

“Mullingar isn't that interesting.” Niall waves a tortilla chip as if that explains this entire reasoning. It doesn't, not really, and Harry doesn't really feel courageous about his very early life crisis, but he can sort of see Louis' point. He thinks he can, anyway.

“Mullingar is in Ireland and that's plenty interesting,” Liam points out with a smile. He leans against the counter, fixing Louis with another quiet smile. “Since Harry's your guest, you should probably go over your rules. Make sure the expectations are met and all.” As Louis rolls his eyes, Liam turns to Harry. “How long are you planning on staying in London then?”

“A couple of weeks, I think.” Harry tries to focus on Liam, but every time he does, he can see Louis out of the corner of his eye, making faces at Liam every time Liam looks away. It's just. If Harry thought he couldn't help but want to sink his teeth in Liam's biceps, he definitely thinks that he'd love to get to know the strange and apparently funny Louis.

He's also pretty sure that the fuzzy feeling he can feel in his stomach is love, albeit puppy love and first crush sort of love. And. Well. That's a bit weird, because he hasn't actually had a conversation with Louis and he's really only going on appearance here. Also, this is _definitely_ going to be an interesting soul-searching journey if he's already falling in love before even leaving England.

Louis makes a face, pushing himself away from the counter he's been leaning against. “C'mon then. I'll give you a tour of the place,” he says to Harry as he passes by him and Harry doesn't quite fumble his way to his feet to follow.

 

In addition to the kitchen and the living room, the ground floor also consists of a small bathroom and a study, Harry quickly finds out.

The small bathroom is their first stop after the kitchen. Louis flips on the light, leaning in the doorway. “So, this is gonna be for your use mostly. You can put your toiletries, if you brought any, in here. If you need to take a shower or anything, you can use the upstairs bath. I'll show you that when we get upstairs.”

He points back to the kitchen as if he suddenly remembers something. “There's a door off the kitchen leading to the laundry room. There's a washer and dryer in there if you need to wash anything during your stay here. You're free to use the soap and all, but if you use it up, you can replace it.” Louis scratches at his chin and Harry isn't quite sure how he managed to miss the five o'clock shadow that dusts the other man's jawline and it's really attractive and. Oh god, this is definitely a crush. What is Harry's _life_?

Completely oblivious to Harry's thought train derailment, Louis points in the direction of the kitchen again. “Same goes for food. Unless you're a really good cook, then you can take that up with Liam with my permission.”

He flips off the light again and leads the way into the study. Like all the rooms Harry's seen so far in the house, the study is cosy. The rooms aren't actually small, but the way the furniture is positioned just make the rooms look welcoming and homely. Harry feels another surge of homesickness as he glances around, taking in the bookcases, mostly filled with books in some order that's lost on Harry (more than a few shelves have action figures of all sorts locked in deadly battle) and the desk, which is home to a laptop hooked up to a larger monitor and stacks of papers. He nearly misses the piano tucked in a corner and hidden beneath notebooks, sheets of music and a few comic book hero Lego sets.

Before Louis can talk, inform him of any further rules, Harry points to the piano with a smile. “You play?”

Louis blinks up at him for a long moment before shooting the piano a bewildered look, like he'd forgotten the instrument existed. A faint smile crosses his face after a bit. “Used to. Don't have the time anymore, so it just sits in here and collects dust.”

He hunches in against the doorway, watching Harry. “So, you're welcome to use the laptop if you didn't bring one of your own. In doing the whole couch surfing thing, I've known people that can't handle leaving their electronics at home, and others that just take advantage.”

“Just my phone, camera and e-reader are coming with me electronics-wise.” Harry smiles despite himself.

“I'll give you the Wi-Fi password then.” Louis nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. There's a moment where Harry wants to lean in, see if Louis feels and tastes as soft as he looks in this very moment and.

Holy fucking shit. Where did that thought even come from? It's certainly nice to know that, despite previous misgivings, his thoughts – and his body - are pretty down with hooking up with random cute boys. Especially ones that could actually kick him out.

Louis coughs after a moment, eying Harry thoughtfully. Harry wonders if his current train of thought is visible on his face. God, he really hopes it's not. He's not really sure what would happen if it is and Louis isn't interested. Just because Louis signed up on a gay friendly couch surfing website doesn't really mean Louis is gay or that Harry's even his type.

Oh god, what is his life. This is a ridiculous, dangerous train of thought and it needs to be derailed now. Harry can fantasize all he likes when not faced with a scruffy kitten in human form.

Harry practically throws himself off the metaphorical train because Louis is talking again and he really should listen to these rules.

“So, Li and I have a strict hook up policy.” Louis is in the process of saying and oh god, is Louis actually reading his thoughts? As Louis continues to talk, Harry's able to breathe because it's clear that Louis isn't a mind reader. “We tend to sexile the other if we hook up with someone, so if that's your thing, let one of us know, yeah? You can like, borrow one of our rooms or something.”

Harry has the sudden mental image of hooking up with someone that isn't Louis in Louis' room, even though he doesn't know what Louis' room looks like. And the whole thought just... doesn't sit well with Harry. The only person Harry currently wants to hook up with while he's in London for the next couple of weeks is this scruffy kitten in front of him. And he doesn't want to admit that out loud.

Harry coughs, hoping his voice projects the calm demeanour he doesn't actually feel. “I'll just. If I find a hook up, we'll just go to their place, yeah?”

The expression Louis gives him is completely unreadable before he shakes himself a bit. “Not your mum, Harold, but give us a heads up if you go that route too, yeah? Don't wanna be waiting up for you or anything.”

Harry knows that he should correct Louis and point out his name isn't Harold in any sense of the word, but he's so pleased with the nickname that he can't bring himself to point it out. What he does is nod his understanding.

Louis scratches his chin as if he's lost in his own thoughts and Harry spares a thought to hope that the other man's thoughts are similar to his own. And that is just ridiculous. Harry's thoughts are rapidly becoming a hazard to his mental well-being and this soul-searching journey of his.

He kind of wants to ask, because it'll help to know where he stands for the next few weeks he's in London, but Harry swallows the urge. It might, after all, make things awkward.

“I should show you the other bathroom before I forget.” Louis points toward the stairs.

Upstairs consists of what Harry assumes are two bedrooms, hidden as they are behind doors, and the large bathroom.

“Towels are over here.” Louis opens a nearby cupboard to show him. “If you use one, wash it, yeah?”

Harry nods at that, shoving his hands in his pockets. He packed a towel as a just in case, but he's almost tempted to use one because it's Louis' – or Liam's, to be fair – and holy fucking shit, he needs to stop this. He needs to hijack this mental train and just blow it up.

As if to spite himself and throw out one last dangerous thought, he leans forward and jerks his head toward the closed bedroom doors.

“Which room's yours then?”

He thinks he sounds flirty, but he's not really sure. What he does know is that Louis is giving him a look that's somewhere between amused and just a tiny bit disgusted. Almost as soon as he sees it, the look is gone and Louis is leaning in.

“You're not even my type, Harold.”

Harry's left to watch Louis walk off. He can't help but notice that Louis' room is the door on the left.

Well, he's definitely screwed.

 

“Is it possible to fall in love with someone at first sight?” Harry asks no one in particular a few days later.

After being shot down by Louis, he hasn't seen much of the man, but he has seen plenty of Louis's roommate Liam. In the process, he finds out that Liam doesn't just busk, he also works at a pub up the road from the house he shares with Louis. It also turns out that Niall works there too. Harry'd asked about the busking when he found out, and Liam had simply smiled and said that singing and busking didn't pay the bills, it was just a bit of fun. For Niall, though, it was more than that, and at the very least, it's a good place to avoid Louis.

Harry's not complaining, he's made friends with Liam and Niall, and he's seen a few sights around London already. He spends his days exploring the city and his evenings avoiding Louis at the pub. He doesn't quite know what Louis does and Liam's been remarkably silent on the subject.

In fact, the few times Harry's asked what Louis does for a living, Liam just smiles quietly. Rather like he's doing right now.

“Are you in love with someone?” Liam picks up a couple of discarded tumblers from further down the bar, setting them in the tub of other dirty glasses he's been collecting. Except for Harry and a few other patrons both at the bar and a few tables, the pub is currently nearly empty. It's pretty much the only reason Harry's choosing this moment for Life Changing Decisions like being in love with someone he's really only known for a few days, and definitely not someone who seems to like him back.

Harry's pretty sure that it's a rhetorical question; Liam probably doesn't actually need to know the answer. He's only asking because for one, he's being a friend and for another, Liam's a barman and people probably share worse things at this bar. He doesn't really know. Before his trip, Harry didn't frequent pubs. Definitely not as often as he's been doing in the past few days.

This is really turning out to be a really interesting road to self-discovery. He's not actually sure anymore that that's a good thing.

“I don't know,” Harry finally says, realizing that it's true as he says it. “I think I might be.”

Liam looks up, mouth open to respond when his ears go a bit pink and he quickly looks down again. Harry wonders about that when someone sits down next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the newcomer's forearms are swathed in bright colours.

“You either do or you don't,” the newcomer says, making Harry turn to look up at him in shock. He's not actually sure what the newcomer means, but he's pretty sure that it has to do with what he was talking about. Some of his thoughts must be on his face because the man smiles.

“Being in love, I mean.” The stranger waves a hand dramatically, a broader smile on his face. Glancing at Liam to gauge his reaction, Harry can see that Liam's doing his best not to look at the stranger. His ears are also really red. Which, well. Maybe Liam knows more about Harry's situation than Harry thought. “You either know you are or you don't. You are, or you aren't.”

“I guess that's true.” Harry ventures, briefly distracted by the man's lashes. To be fair, the man's definitely attractive, in a supermodel sort of way, but Harry doesn't feel the same sort of flutter he felt looking at Louis. Which, also well. It's somewhat reassuring to know that it's not _everyone_ pretty that he's automatically attracted to.

Maybe it's really just Louis. Granted, that offers up an entirely different set of problems: if he's only going to be attracted to Louis during the entire course of his trip – and he doesn't even know how long it's going to take, really – how in the world is he going to discover that part of himself?

“Judging by the expression on your face, you might be,” the stranger goes on, grinning at Harry. He glances up briefly with a fainter smile when Liam comes over, setting a drink down in front of the man before moving on. Liam looks entirely embarrassed, ears pink, as he focuses extensively on various tasks.

The drink order confuses Harry, though. He definitely doesn't remember any sort of order.

As if aware of Harry's train of thought, the stranger holds up the drink and waits until Liam's at the other end of the bar before saying anything. “I'm here a lot, and I always order the same thing. Mostly because it makes Li's ears go pink.” He tilts the drink slightly in Harry's direction. “Don't remember you, though.”

“I'm Harry. Just traveling through.” Harry points at Liam. “I'm crashing on his couch. Well, his roommate's couch.” He pauses, realizing how that sounds.

“A drifter, yeah?” The stranger smiles, holding his hand out. “I'm Zayn, by the way. Nice to meet you, Harry.”

 

Zayn, it turns out, knows a lot of interesting places around London; places that hadn't been in the guide book Harry had bought. He's also a pretty good friend, as Harry realises shortly after his second weekend in London starts. Louis is still avoiding Harry, which makes Harry disproportionately sad because he still feels the flutter in his stomach he'd felt from the first time he'd ever laid eyes on Louis.

Shortly after that first meeting with Zayn at the bar, Zayn turns up on Liam and Louis' doorstep to see Harry. It's hilarious because Liam turns a rather interesting shade of pink when he sees Zayn on his doorstep, and it's not until after Harry's left with Zayn that the pair of them burst out laughing.

They don't talk about it, Liam's ridiculous crush on Zayn, although there's a part of Harry that really wants to. Talking about Liam's crush might, after all, help Harry work through what he feels for Louis before he leaves London on his next adventure.

What they mostly do, since they don't talk about crushes, requited or unrequited – although definitely unrequited in Louis' case, Harry's noticed – is spend the days together seeing both the sights Harry wants to and the sights that Zayn thinks he'd like.

Halfway through his second week, Harry realises that he still hasn't been to the London Aquarium and just. What is that? What sort of tourist is he being, if he doesn't visit the Aquarium? Granted, he's been there when he's visited London with his parents and sister. But that was then and this is, well, now.

“It's the principle of the thing,” he tells Zayn while they're on the Tube, heading in that direction. He's pretty sure Zayn's just humouring him at this point, but it's better than sitting at Liam and Louis' place hoping that Louis likes him back.

“Honestly, mate, I don't mind. The Aquarium's ace.” Zayn smiles quietly. “You know there's a deal where a few of the major sights are discounted if you visit a couple of them at once, right? The Aquarium's one of them, actually.”

“Really?” Harry blinks, pulling out his guidebook and looking. Sure enough, there's a list of various sights around London, including the London Eye and the Aquarium. Which, huh. This is something Harry wouldn't have known, or remembered; he really should make friends in every place he goes.

“Where else would you recommend I go, then?” Harry holds his guidebook out to Zayn, because hey, Zayn hasn't disappointed him yet in the short time Harry's known him.

“The London Dungeon is also pretty sick.” Zayn points at the description. “If you like haunted houses and scary stuff.”

Harry doesn't, not really, but he nods. If he's lucky, Zayn'll go with him. Or he'll make a friend at the Aquarium or something. Both. Whatever.

 

There's a crowd of small, and loud, children at the Aquarium when they walk in the main entrance. Normally, Harry doesn't mind small children, but this is a loud group and he doesn't see anyone in charge.

And then he does.

“Alright, munchkins!” Louis, the person that Harry's been trying to forget because of how intently they've been avoiding each other, seems to part the kids like an ocean and well. Damn. Nope. Harry's still not over Louis. Especially because this Louis looks so much more mature than the scruffy kitten Harry's seen at the house.

Harry is so, so fucked.

“Do you know him?” Zayn asks, and he sounds so amused by the whole thing that Harry wants to crawl into a hole and bury himself. He also doesn't say anything, but it doesn't seem like Zayn's expecting an actual response. “He's not bad looking. He's no Liam Payne, though.”

Harry's pretty sure he looks utterly confused at that because Zayn grins. “That's the barman, mate. The one at the pub I met you at.”

It clicks, then, although it also reminds Harry that, even though he's been crashing on Louis' couch for two weeks now, he still doesn't know Louis' last night. Or Liam's, apparently. What he does know, though... “That's Liam's roommate. His name's Louis.” He pauses. “I didn't know he was a teacher though.”

“He rather looks like an overgrown kid himself. Are you sure he's a teacher?” Zayn grins, leading the way into the aquarium. “C'mon, there's fish to see.”

 

No matter where they go in the aquarium, the group of children, led by Louis, seems to follow Harry and Zayn. They joke a bit about it, trying to figure out exactly what the group is. Currently, it's a toss-up between 'group of school children' and 'demonic children out to rule the world'. Harry's been pulling for the latter, when he hasn't been sneaking glances in Louis' direction.

He'd thought it had gone unnoticed, but judging by the grin that keeps crossing Zayn's face after every glance says it definitely hasn't. He's lost count of how many glances and grins pass between them before Harry heaves a sigh.

“I'm not hiding it, am I?”

“It's cute.” Zayn smiles at the brightly coloured tropical fish in the tank before them, but it's obvious that the smile isn't directed at the fish but at Harry. “Liam's spoken pretty highly of his roommate.”

“Thought you didn't know who his roommate was,” Harry says, feeling himself blush as he tries to grasp for straws. He knows he's doing himself no favours.

Zayn grins at Harry's reflection. “I knew he had a roommate. I just didn't know the man's name, or what he looked like.”

Louis, with one of the younger girls in the group of children by his side, comes over to a tank nearby. He crouches down to be on the same eye level as the girl, all the better to discuss the fish in the tank or whatever, and Harry's really just screwed.

And it's definitely obvious on his face because Zayn bursts out laughing. The sound makes Louis' head turn toward it and something unreadable crosses the man's face before he's turning back to the little girl.

“I bet he thinks we're following him now.” Zayn nudges Harry with a grin. “You should go talk to him, though. Tell him your feelings.”

“Not talking to him about feelings.” Harry huffs. He's pretty sure that Louis probably does think that Harry's following him and that Harry's just a creeper. “I hit on him already, remember? Was turned down too.”

“Right.” Zayn looks quietly amused, and what is that expression even for?

They make it through a few more rooms, and plenty of looks in their direction from Louis, before Louis finally comes over to them.

“Are you actually _following_ me?” Louis crosses his arms over his chest, giving them both a look that Harry's already seen him give a few of his kids.

Zayn suddenly looks interested in the tank nearest to them, the traitor. Harry sighs inwardly before smiling at Louis.

“Not really. I had plans to come to the Aquarium, and Zayn here was nice enough to come with me, and you just happened to already be here.” Harry smiles wide, hoping he looks charming and not as creepy as he's probably coming across.

He's not entirely sure it's working, but Louis rolls his eyes and holds his hands up in exasperation. “You're welcome to join my class. Just don't start anything. I'm responsible for those munchkins.”

“We won't,” Harry pipes up, and that seems to be that.

 

The rest of the aquarium visit goes pretty well. To be honest, Harry might start out at the back of the group with Zayn, but somewhere along the way, he migrates to the front. There are a few moments when he thinks Louis smiles in his direction, and he's not sure if it's because of his closeness or because Louis seems to genuinely like the kids he teaches.

At the end of the trip, the parents begin to pick up their youngsters. Harry isn't sure where Zayn disappeared to, or even _when_ Zayn disappeared, but somehow it's suddenly just the two of them. And while Harry should be excited about that, he also feels a bit anxious about it.

They stand there in awkward silence for a few minutes that feel a lot like a few hours, until Louis finally clears his throat.

“I'm gonna head home, then,” Louis says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Want to walk home with me?”

Harry's about to agree when he remembers that he got tickets for both the Aquarium and the London Dungeon. He digs the tickets out of his pocket and shows them to Louis. “I was actually gonna hit up the London Dungeon. Zayn says it's pretty cool.”

Something close to a smile crosses Louis's face. “If you like that sort of thing.”

Harry hesitates before taking a deep breath and jumping in the deep end. “Want to come with me? I think Zayn left so I have an extra ticket.”

Louis blinks for a moment before breaking out into the first smile Harry's seen actually directed at him and not as some sort of afterthought. “Sure.”

 

Harry's not really sure how it happens, but after the London Aquarium and London Dungeon, he suddenly sees a lot more of Louis. It's not that he's complaining because he's glad that Louis isn't avoiding him anymore; it's just that he wasn't expecting such a turnabout.

They fall into a pretty easy thing, although Harry's not entirely sure just what that thing is. If he was going to call it something, Harry's pretty sure he'd call it a relationship. But that's absurd, because Harry's leaving in less than a week.

But the thing is. Harry finds himself cooking Louis breakfast and making him lunches for school, and this is definitely a relationship because Harry's _enjoying_ every minute that he does it. He also finds himself worrying about what's going to happen when he does leave. It's not that he thinks Louis would just forget to eat once Harry's gone, because he's pretty sure Liam wouldn't just let Louis starve.

A few days before Harry's due to move on, he finds himself sitting at the kitchen table, watching Louis grade homework. Louis' arm is once again covered in marker drawings, and Harry knows by now which of Louis' kids draws on his arm. He wonders briefly if any of the other people Louis has had couch surfing know even a fraction of the things Harry knows about Louis, and the thought actually bothers him.

“You're staring at me,” Louis says into the silence marred only by the rustling of the papers he's grading. He doesn't look up, but Harry can see the hint of a smile crossing his face. “I can't imagine that watching me grade primary school papers is _that_ interesting.”

“Sorry, just thinking about the next place I want to visit once I move on,” Harry lies, not sure why he's doing it even as he says it. They might be on better terms now, but Harry doesn't want to scare Louis off again. Things are comfortable now, and he knows that he's going to miss it when he's gone.

Louis looks up, biting his lip like he's trying to hide the grin that Harry can see trying to break out. Harry wonders if it's obvious to Louis that Harry's completely lying, and he kind of hopes that it is. After a few moments, the smile that Harry can see just below the surface comes out and Louis leans forward to kiss him softly.

It's not really much of a kiss, just a brief brush of lips, and before it even registers to Harry that it's happening, Louis leans back and turns his attention back to his grading.

“It's Tomlinson, by the way,” Louis announces to his grading, and much like the kiss, it takes a moment for Harry to register that the statement is directed at him. There's the ghost of a smile before Louis adds, “My last name. Just feel like you should know it.”

Harry knows he should say something in response, but what he does is lean forward and kiss Louis back slowly. It's not a long kiss, but it's more than just a brush of lips like the first kiss.

There's a small smile on Louis' face as Harry pulls back, and Harry's pretty sure that he doesn't want to move on.

 

~~~

Harry leaves after three weeks, just like he'd said in the first place, and Louis doesn't like it. He's tried hard to ignore Harry; he never gets involved with the people he meets through couch surfing. It's not at all easy, because Harry's _very_ easy on the eyes. So, Louis just turns himself into a coward: he starts to ignore and avoid Harry at all costs. It's not exactly a perfect solution and whenever he sees Liam, Liam just smiles at him because Liam is actually a horrible person and Louis has no idea why he's friends and roommates with the man.

Then comes that time in the London Aquarium, surrounded by Louis' class, and the definitely-a-date at the London Dungeon and just. Louis has met plenty of brave souls from all over the world out to discover the world around them, and plenty of them were very easy on the eyes. Harry is the first that makes Louis want to break down all his barriers, all his walls and let this stranger in.

And he does, that night in the kitchen when Harry kisses him and Louis finally tells told him his last name.

But Harry has still left. Just like he said he would. And Louis definitely, definitely does not like it.

Then Louis finds a postcard stuck behind a picture of Louis and his mum on the fridge. It's got the London Dungeon on the front, and the reverse simply says, “I think it was here. - H.” He doesn't get it, and he's almost tempted to chuck it, but something makes him stick the postcard in his laptop bag.

The next postcard is from Paris, of the Moulin Rouge, in his post box. It's addressed to him and says, “I'm not as brave as all this, no matter what you think of me. - H”. That's when it dawns on him; the postcards are from Harry.

That's how his feelings start. It starts small, with a postcard from a few different cities across Europe with various bits of commentary from Harry. It's mostly variations of 'wish you were here, I miss you', and Louis feels himself get more and more lonely with each postcard from yet another location so far away from him. He feels like he should just get rid of them, burn them in an attempt to stem off the wave of loneliness each new postcard gives him. Instead, he buys a large map of Europe and some push pins, and with Liam's help, he hangs it up in the living room. And he marks each and every location Harry visits and sends him a postcard from.

“This came for you.” Liam hands Louis an envelope. It's been a few months since Harry's left, and the push pins on his map say Harry's somewhere in Turkey. He can't tell much about where the envelope was sent from: it's just his name and address written in Harry's handwriting, the same as all the postcards he's gotten from various cities, and curiosity makes him rip it open.

He doesn't know what he was expecting, but the letter inside the envelope is decidedly unexpected.

'Dear Louis,' the letter begins, and suddenly it feels too open, too exposed to be reading this where Liam could glance over his shoulder and get more fuel for the mocking fire. He quietly excuses himself to his bedroom to continue reading.

That's his intention, anyway. In the privacy of his room, he slumps against his door and traces Harry's loopy signature. He puts on a front out in the real world, but in his private heart, Louis misses Harry just so, so much. And that's. That was never supposed to happen.

He traces the letters of Harry's signature again, smiling faintly at how they loop around just like Harry's wild curls, and he swallows past the lump in his throat the mental image brings.

He presses the letter to his chest for a moment, trying to calm himself down from the sudden emotion, before reading.

_Dear Louis,_

_I'm sitting in a little tiny cafe in Antwerp, Belgium, eating an actual Belgian waffle that's so buried in fruit and whipped cream that I'm sure I'll die in the sugar crash and listening to a busker playing an accordion in front of this massively tall church, and I'm so incredibly homesick. That's absolutely pathetic, right? Someone once told me that getting to see the world was a brave thing, that it took a lot of courage to see more than just the place where you grew up, and that they envied those people for that same courage._

_But the thing is, Lou, I'm a coward. This whole trip, this is a coward's excursion. I never told you that in London, you know? I wanted you to like me so, so badly that I was willing to go with whatever lie you wanted to spin for me. I was a college student, and I'll probably be a college student once I get home again. You should know that much about me, at least. College student who visits his mum, stepdad and sister practically every day and suddenly had the mental image of themselves in ten, fifteen years of being in the same place, doing the exact same thing._

_So I ran. I quit school, got the okay from my parents to go on a trip across Europe to find who I was before it was too late. Holmes Chapel is this small little town where you don't really have the option to figure out if you like lads or birds, and I thought, “I could do that on this trip. Have hook-ups in every city, find who I am, find my place, and then go back to Holmes Chapel to settle down as a new person. A new Harry Styles.”_

_And then I met you. And that was it for me._ You _were_ it _for me, Lou. As cheesy as it sounds, I fell in love with you that very first moment I saw you; I fell in love with this sleepy, scruffy kitten who got all puffed up and agitated because I thought he might be a serial killer out to eat me because I didn't know his last name. You also turned me down, and then avoided me for days. Then the Aquarium and the London Dungeon..._

_That final week in London was painful for me. I knew I had to continue on my journey, had to see if my feelings for you were a fluke. See if I could fall for some other pretty, scruffy kitten in another city._

_But I couldn't. There was so much in every city I passed through that reminded me of you, that I had to put on postcards and in journals so that I wouldn't forget. So that when I passed through London once more, I could have all these memories like precious jewels to share with you. So you could be pretend to be brave like I was being in London._

_I don't know how you feel about me, or if you feel the same way. I thought you might, that final week in London. In fact, I hope that if you do feel the same as I do, you still feel the same. Even after all this time I've been away._

_I hope you haven't forgotten me. In fact, I hope you've looked at my postcards, thought fondly of me, and read this letter._

_I'll be in London in a few weeks. I hope I'll see you then, and that I'll get your answer as to how you feel about me at that time. I'm going to be staying with a friend I've made there, so you don't have to worry about me crashing on your couch again._

_With all my love,  
Harry_

 

If Louis reads the letter multiple times or tucks the letter under his pillow, well. No one but him is any wiser. No one has any fuel.

 

After the letter confessing his feelings, there are no more postcards from Harry. Louis doesn't like that either. It feels a bit like he's lost a limb, lost all sense of where Harry is in respect to London. In respect to Louis.

All Louis knows is that the last location he knew Harry was in was Belgium. At best, it's a few hours by train. Not that Louis has looked it up or anything. Obsessively. When he should be teaching his kids how to read and write and make pretty pictures.

As he makes his way home, a few weeks after the letter's arrival, Louis is tempted to just buy a train ticket and head to Belgium and go find Harry. He doesn't quite know _how_ he'd find Harry in Belgium, but hey, baby steps. He'll figure something out when he's actually there.

He's just talked himself into buying the ticket when he turns into the street he calls home and his whole reason to buy the ticket goes out the window. Because there's someone, no, there's _Harry_ standing on his doorstep, rucksack sitting at his feet.

Louis can pinpoint exactly the moment when Harry sees him because Harry just. Lights up. It's cheesy to say, but that's the best way to put it. Harry's taller than he remembers, and a bit more when it comes to the curls held back by a printed bandana, but he's brighter than the sun when he sees Louis.

He tries to ignore the flutter in his stomach as he approaches his doorstep, approaches Harry. He also doesn't say anything, worried that the flutter might translate into throwing up all over Harry if he opens his mouth. But the silence also makes Harry's face fall, and Harry coughs as Louis gets closer.

“I don't know if you read any of the postcards, or the letter I sent you, but....” Harry clears his throat, leaning down and pulling out a small package from his rucksack. He hesitates a moment before handing it over. “I'm not going to stay here in the off chance you did read that letter and don't feel the same as me. So don't worry, things won't get embarrassing if you don't.”

Harry waits until Louis takes the box, biting his lip and inhaling deeply, like he's steeling himself. And Louis knows he did that to Harry, made him that nervous, and he feels so, so awful for it.

“I'm. I'm gonna go. Have a nice life, Louis.” Harry tries for a smile, and it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He picks up his rucksack, slinging it on his back. “If you didn't read the letter, I just. I want to thank you for helping me figure something out about myself.”

He steps around Louis, already walking away. Before he's aware he's doing it, Louis reaches out and grabs Harry's arm.

“I read your letter. Kept it and all the postcards,” Louis blurts out. He's not exactly sure what he's doing. Judging by the shocked look on Harry's face, Harry's not sure what's going on either.

“And I wasn't exactly honest with you either,” Louis goes on, bolstered by the fact that Harry's not running away. “I fell in love with you at first sight too. And I tried to get over you too. That's why I avoided you.”

“What are you saying?” Harry whispers, stepping in close. “Are you saying I can stay here while I'm in London?”

“I think...” Louis leans in, taking a deep breath. He spends a lot of time wishing he had the courage to do more than see just London, and now he's got a chance to be brave for a change. “Maybe you could stay forever? If you want?”

If he thought Harry had rivalled the sun when he first saw Louis a few minutes ago, it's got nothing on the smile that Harry gives him now.

“I would love to stay forever.”


End file.
